He Knows
by Lolapola
Summary: My take on what I thought would happen at the end of 2x1, except Irene actually did die. One shot.


This is just a (kind of AU) one shot of what I thought was going to happen at the end of Sherlock 2x1. By the way, in this version, Mycroft left, or was in the café, or something. Basically he isn't in this. Also points go to whoever can find song lyrics in this!

Wasn't the new episode awesome? I loved it! Anyway, ignore me, read!

Warnings: VERY mild spoilers for 2x1, seeing as I change what actually happens…. Rated T coz I'm paranoid, suggested drug use.

Disclaimer: If I owned Sherlock…I don't.

He Knows

John climbed the steps to his and Sherlock's living room, dreading the conversation that was to come. He still hadn't decided what he was going to tell Sherlock.

He didn't want Sherlock to fall into that awful depression again, especially when Irene was dead for real this time. But did he want to lie to his best friend? Was it even possible to lie to Sherlock Holmes?

All too soon he was at the door. _What are you going to say? _His mind shouted at him. _Choose!_ Before he'd even reached the door, his flatmate's voice floated out.

"Clearly you've got news." John came into Sherlock's view, looking surprised. The fact that Sherlock could tell what he was going to say before he even entered the room by listening to his footsteps still amazed him.

"If it's about the Leeds triple murder, it was the gardener." Sherlock continued. He hadn't looked up from his work. "Did nobody notice the earring?"

"Hi." John said pointedly. He had long since realised that Sherlock did not waste his breath on greetings, but he still tried. "Er no, it's, um…" He hesitated. _Just say it! "_…it's about Irene Adler."

That got his attention. The detective looked up sharply. "Well? Something happened? Has she come back?"

"No, no, she's, er….I just bumped into Mycroft downstairs. He had to take a call."

Sherlock got up and came over to John. "Is she back in London?"

"No. She's…er…" _Truth or lie? Truth or lie?_ He made his decision. "She's in America."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows in surprise, not something that happened often, though he was still looking searchingly at John.

"Got herself on a witness protection scheme, apparently." _Coward,_ John thought, as he repeated the lie Mycroft had told him. "Don't know how she…swung it, but…well, you know."

Sherlock frowned. "I know what?"

"Well, you won't be able to see her again."

Suddenly Sherlock's face cleared of all emotion. John tensed. Did that mean he was fooled?

"Clearly." Sherlock said coldly. He went back to his desk and looked into his microscope again. John started to relax and turned to leave, desperate to get away from the friend he had just lied to. Even if it was for his own good. "Is that her file?"

"Yes, I was just going to take it back to Mycroft. Do you…want to –"

"No."

John stared at his friend for a moment. Was he really as unbothered as he appeared to be? He had to leave now otherwise he would end up telling the truth.

"…Right." He was turned to go downstairs when a quiet voice followed him out.

"Beheaded or shot?"

John froze. "_What?"_ He swung back round to face Sherlock, who still hadn't looked up from his microscope.

"You heard me. Was she beheaded or shot?"

John sighed. He should have known. No one can lie to Sherlock Holmes without him finding out. "Beheaded." There was a long silence. Then Sherlock stood suddenly, still not looking at John, and strode towards the door.

There, he paused for a moment. "I understand why you lied." Then he was gone. John stood frozen for a moment, and then sprinted after his friend. "Sherlock! _SHERLOCK!"_

John was fast, but Sherlock was faster. He lost the doctor in minutes, leaving him alone to wonder where he was going. He couldn't deal with this, this unfamiliar pain. He had to get away from it. The last time, he'd had a notion that the death was faked. This time, he knew. She was dead. The Woman.

Sherlock stopped. His feet had taken him to where he knew he really wanted to be.

He sat at the end of an alleyway, leaning against a wall. The needle hovered above his arm. Did he want to do this? Did he want The Woman to have this kind of effect on him?

"_Do it_," said a voice in his mind. "_It will ease the pain_." Hesitation seized him. He didn't want to. He did. The voice spoke again, mocking him, and it sounded like her.

"_Are you really this weak? Can you really not make such a simple decision? What are you going to do, Sherlock? What?"_

He heard footsteps approaching the opening of the alleyway. John's. He had to be fast. "_What are you going to do?" _He couldn't move. He had to do this now. There was no peace, no silence, no comfort. Just panic and chaos. His always-there logic was gone.

"Sherlock!" John had seen him. Any second now he was going to see what he was holding. Now. It had to be now. "_What are you going to do?"_

"Sherlock! NO!"

Thanks for reading! Please review!


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